Bike Rides (Tia A., Grade 6

I felt a stabbing pain in my back. Then I heard my sister snicker. I had been having a nightmare. I had fallen asleep. My dad was never there. Not just in my dream. My dad was never in my life. He was never there. He would never be there. A hot tear rolled down my cheek. - - - - - I guess I felt like there was no way out. Everything was over. My “father,” or whatever his dumb name was, had already left. My mama was always exhausted. My sister was so incredibly cruel. I felt like giving up… and running away. I sat on my floor for a while. I felt the cool tile touch my skin. If I ran away, what would I bring with me? How would I escape? Who would I tell? How would I survive? I think I sat in that very spot for hours, just thinking… and sulking. I hadn’t done my homework, or eaten dinner yet, and it was nearly 9PM. No one came to check on me. I sat there for a little bit longer, until I caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye. It was a white square… or no, a white rectangle? Right out my window, there was a mattress. An old, distressed, gross mattress that looked like it had been used for years and years. It had finally been given up on, just like me. It sat there, two floors down, directly below my window. I had forgotten… Milo, our garbageman, would come tomorrow morning. I guess they left it out on purpose. But, who were they?

To read the rest of Julia’s story please use this link: Milo Continued

Bike Rides By Tia A., Grade 6

It was the year of 97 when I met Willie Casten. Let's go back to the moment when I met Will. I was sitting on my wooden desk half asleep when Mr. Vicker called my name. “Linda, you will be partners with Will.” I didn't know who he was talking about because there were three Wills in our class. The first one was Will Johnson, the most popular boy in the 5th grade. He had short brown hair with small twists scattered in it and green eyes that glistened in the sunlight. The next Will was Will Jeremy. People called him Will and some called him W.J, like me. His sister, Callie, was my best friend and she looked exactly like him just with really long hair and pierced ears. The last Will was Willie Casten. Everyone knew about him but didn’t really talk to him. Occasionally he would ride down my street on his dusty red bike, but I mostly see him in the supermarket shopping with his mother who always had a string of pearls hanging on her neck. Mr. Vicker pointed to him and I looked questioningly at his bright red ears that popped out of his head. His glasses tilted to the side as I pulled up a chair to his desk. He looked at me with huge brown eyes and then started working on the paper without even saying hello. That day continued on in the same routine way, until that night at sunset when I was reading while sitting on my window sill. That’s when things got strange? (or That’s when everything changed?) I was reading the rest of the book my papa had given me for my birthday when I caught my eyes on something outside. I rushed to my window only to see that Will Casten was standing on the sidewalk holding something. I ran downstairs to ask him why he didn’t talk to me that day. When I came out of the garage he looked me straight in the eye with tears streaming down his red cheeks and he was holding a dead squirrel. There was blood flooding in his palms. That's when I

knew that Willie was the only sensitive boy I knew and that I wanted to be friends with him. It was now the middle of August 1998 and I was sitting in Willie's living room waiting for his mom to rub the milky white sunblock on his back. She finally finished and gave him a light kiss on his forehead leaving a big red stain smack in the middle of it. We got on our bikes and started pedaling through the streets of the town. We had finally gotten to the lake and set up our fishing rods. We played a few games of tic tac toe until our rod started shaking. Me and Willie ran to reel it in. When we did, there was nothing on the hook. Just our slimy old bait we took from papa. This happened a few times until we decided to go back home because Willie said I could come for dinner. On the way to Willie's house we stopped at Tom's Liquor. Me and Willie both got a soda and an icy pop. We left the store then I noticed Steve sitting on the curb. Steve was the nicest person I ever knew. He was just sitting there staring into the distance in his ripped shorts. I got off my bike and walked over to him. “Here Mister Steve you can have the rest of my soda pop. I don't need it.” “Are you sure you don't want it?” “Yes, I'm sure.” “Ok, thank you Linda. God bless you.” I could tell that the few girls from school who were around that day were staring at me in disgust for giving a dirty homeless man a drink. But they just didn't understand that no matter how dirty you are, you can be the best person in the world. They had no brains. I could tell nobody liked me, but it was okay because I didn’t like nobody either. Except Will. But he didn’t count. When we got to Willie’s house I called my papa to tell him I was staying for dinner. Willie’s mom brought out a steaming pot roast. I looked at Willie and he looked at me. His glasses filled up with fog. We both smiled. I looked at Willie's momma and she was starting to eat. I stared at her light strawberry blonde curls in the hair, her plump red lips, rosy cheeks, and her pearl necklace. I looked up at her and she grinned at me. At that moment my body filled up with life. I felt alive for once. The reason why I liked going to Willie's house was because I felt like I had a mother. A mother who cared and nurtured me and could take my shopping for pretty jewelry. Willie has a mother and he doesn't even wear jewelry. It just wasn’t fair. When I got home, it only took one look at my mother's picture for the water works to start.

The next day was my last day of summer and I knew I had to spend it the best I could spend any day in my life. I started off by eating my favorite eggo waffles I picked up from last week's grocery stop. I looked on the fridge to find a piece of paper reading “I'm fixing Cynthia's sink.”

Cynthia was our neighbor who owned a million cats. She was definitely considered a “cat lady”. I'm allergic to cats in my eyes. My father says I got it from my mother. I walked over to her house to see my father dripping in sweat and there were black marks on his bald head. I was too lazy to tell him that he looked scruffy so instead I just got on my bike and rode to Willie's house. When I knocked on the door nobody answered. I knocked again. Again, no one. Finally I dug up the spare key in the donut plant me and Willie decorated last summer. When I got in the house it was dark. I could hear mumbling upstairs. I walked up to find Willie's parents talking. His fathers face was pale and he looked like a ghost.